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The view has you breathless; Silas hadn’t lied when he said this was one of the most beautiful places in all of Hoshidian territory. Just on the outer rim of the forest, where the trees grow scarce and green, a clearing opens wide and bare, grassy cliff dipping far below into a lush, verdant vale. You skip excitedly to the edge, eyes sweeping the scenery in an effort to etch every detail in your memory. The uprising wind carries the scent of flowers and that of faint mud, and immediately you tally the amount of bodies of water glistening under the sun, flickering to life like crystalline sheets of glass. You’re still staring listlessly when the noisy rustling of leaves drags you from your mesmerized trance.
Out of the forest comes Silas, panting and sweating in the heavy brass of his armor. Twigs and leaves stick to its surface, and you have to bite the inside of your lip to prevent yourself from busting into laughter. You peer over your shoulder at his stumbling and exhausted form, sly smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
“Trouble back there, forest boy?” You snicker with your hand against your mouth.
Silas shoots you a mock of a dark stare, closing in on the distance between the two of you while picking out the sprigs protruding from the articulations of his armored mail.
“I told you to wait for me,” he ruffles his insubordinate strands of hair, “even now, you’re as brash as ever,” his grimace turns to a tame, gentle smile.
“You’re the one who brought along all of that stuff –you knew we couldn’t take your horse this deep in the forest,” you tease him amicably, eyeing the said gear.
You stick out your tongue playfully, turning back to contemplate the sight before you. Silas shuffles and settles down his luggage behind you, unpacking whatever he brought along with him. You ignore it until you hear a satisfied huff, thoughts lost amidst the drifting clouds. You shift around reluctantly, taking in Silas’ setup.
Hand on his hip, the other scratching absentmindedly the back of his head, he blushes ever so slightly, his voice still ringing with jest, “Happy I brought all of that stuff along, now?” his eyes finally dare dart to your gaping expression as he receives no answer, “Well? I thought this would make up for that failure of a picnic we had when we were younger…”
“This is perfect! Thank you so much, Silas!” you prance eagerly towards him, placing a soft, subtle kiss on his cheek –and it’s his turn to be mouth agape, the red on his cheeks deepening to a crimson shade.
You waste no time lying down on the blanket spread on the ground, stretching as you cradle your head on your arms to look upwards to the sky.
“Aren’t you curious as to what’s in there..?” he points to the woven basket right above your head.
Turning on your belly, you sit on your knees and reach for it –you hadn’t even spared a second glance at it, being too excited just to be able to lay back and relax in the cool breeze. Silas sits beside you on the blanket, watching you retrieve the items from the container.
You withdraw multitude of different snacks from the seemingly bottomless recipient, the wave of packed refreshments unfurling endlessly on the quilt: sandwiches, cut vegetables and fruits, water, juice, salads –even a cake and a whole pie.
“…Did you invite someone else I am unaware of?” again, you have to stifle the laughter attempting to erupt from your mouth.
Silas imperceptibly cowers in his armor, defending himself hesitantly with a smile, “Hey, I just didn’t want to forget anything!”
You giggle lightheartedly, “I know, I know!” –your hand is still pulling out pouches of biscuits and heaps of cheese- “no wonder you had such difficulty treading in the woods. I can’t believe you prepared all of that!”
Your mat is now overflowing with food. You stare eyes wide at the freshness and quality of it –it must have cost him a fortune, especially in this time of war where resources were limited.
You meet Silas’ gaze, your face beaming with happiness, “Well, have I finally reached the confines of the basket’s astral realm?”
“Keep digging,” his smile is strangely mischievous.
You comply without releasing his glare, somewhat suspicious of his intentions; your hand fumbles around in the oversized container, finally clasping around a stuffed paper bag enclosing a hard object. Once in the broad daylight, you hastily unwrap it, immediately recognizing your newfound discovery.
“Silas! You didn’t-”
“-I sure did.”
You hold the heavy dark emerald glass bottle close to your eyes, observing the cloudy red liquid swishing around -wine. Silas then dips past you, reaching into the basket to retrieve two small cups and a wooden bottle opener. He holds the items with his two hands, raising them to level with your eyes.
“Well? How about a toast to our reunion?” he settles down the two glasses on the carpet, motioning for the bottle in your hands.
You hand it to him willingly, childish thrill boiling in your stomach; it’s not often that one could afford such luxuries. Even back in Nohr, as confined and pampered as you were, wine was a treat seldom presented beside your plate. You jump slightly when the loud, distinct pop of the cork echoes in your ears. Silas then wastes no time pouring a couple inches in your respective cups, supplying yours shortly.
The two of you meet gazes, stare never unlocking as you bump glasses and cheer gleefully. You bring the cup under your nose, rolling the wine within it while moving your hand, inhaling the rich, deep smell. Already the first sip of the glass slides down your throat like liquid velvet, the supple flavor teeming with tinges of freshly ground spices –this was definitely a good wine.
. . .
… Maybe it was too much of a good wine. Roughly two hours later, you and Silas have already finished the bottle –or is it mostly you?- and are laughing giddily as he recounts forgotten memories of your shared childhood, acting like some kind of grand, fancy bard. You roar with laughter at the obviously exaggerated tales, only spurring him on further. At this point, a lot of the food is gone, though you have not nearly eaten half of it. Fortunately, you’ve sealed and put away what you know you won’t be touching, clearing enough space on the blanket to lay down side by side as you hold your cramped sides from laughter.
Silas is sprawled in a simple linen shirt and thin cotton pants, having discarded his burdensome armor. Your hilarity finally dies down, and you both examine the sky in silent comfort for a while, satisfaction permeating your traits.
You eventually turn on your belly, bending an arm to nestle your head into your palm to get a better look at Silas’ serene profile. A strange, churning feeling mangles and twists in your belly as your eyes follow every line and crease of his face: his charmingly rebel cowlick, the soft pleasant curves of his face, the firm, chiseled contours of his extended arms, the awe-inducing pectorals of his chest stretching his shirt, the… Woah. You catch yourself before Silas spots the thread of saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth. He nonetheless encounters your gawking face, eyes rounding up questioningly as he inquires wordlessly what’s wrong.
You remain quiet a bit longer, confusion slinking ever stronger on his face –darn he’s cute when he looks puzzled like that. You feel like you want to see more of it; you can’t resist, alcohol talking or not. You wriggle closer, diving to cover delicately his lips with yours. The touch is nearly nothing more than a feather’s caress, no longer than the fall of a particle of sand in a tilted hourglass. Yet it’s enough to elicit a reaction from him, although fiercer than anticipated. He reels back almost instantly, shock visible on every inch of his face.
“That’s it,” you tell yourself, “I ruined everything. By the Gods, why did I ever do that?!”
You blush furiously out of spite for yourself and embarrassment, opening your mouth to babble expedited and profuse apologies:
“I, Silas- I’m so sorry, I-“
They are however cut short as his mouth settles upon yours again, tender but demanding as his lips moves against your own, teeth nipping carefully on the limber flesh. Stunned yourself, you moan contentedly in the kiss, letting him take the lead. There’s no pause for breath as his hands push on your chest to compel you to lie down, your hands winding on his neck and amidst the rebellious locks of his ashen hair.
His body is pressing heatedly on yours when finally the kiss ceases, Silas anchoring his hands on each side of your head while he peers down cravingly at you. Warmth floods your face. All of this is so overwhelming: you can’t pinpoint which sensation derives from your inebriation and which from your excitement or arousal, their culmination flooring you with staggering want.
“I never thought you’d make the first move… Not that I am unhappy.” His smile then is one of genuine elation.
You don’ dare speak words as realisation of his implication dawns upon you: instead, you draw him in for another kiss, this one needier, more slippery. This time, Silas doesn’t recoil back. He returns the kiss with renewed fervor, his tongue delving in your mouth as it seeks your own desperately. His clothed sex grinds against your covered one, hips rolling slightly forward between your legs. Your whimpers drown in the exchanged saliva between your mouths, and you arch your back to press harder against him, to feel more of his growing hardness.
You already feel the dampness soaking your underwear and lubricating your lips when Silas moves an exploring hand to your chest, groping your breast through the fabric of your clothes. He pinches your nipple experimentally, releasing your mouth as you gasp loudly for air when his lips tackle the exposed flesh of your collarbone. He trails wet kisses and stops intermittently to suckle at your sensitive spots, steering towards the appealing gorge of your cleavage. He makes quick work of your buttons there, hands promptly prying your shirt open to reveal your hot, alluring flesh to his feverish gaze.
Immediately his mouth seals over the aroused peak of your mound, his other hand toying with the unattended one. You spread your arms over your head, sighing from the bubbling pleasure rising in your lower abdomen. When his teeth tug a bit harshly at your nipple, you cry out sharply, hands shooting to hold his head in place. He raises an inquisitive brow, mouth releasing your now glistening breast. You hastily pull him up, coaxing him into removing his shirt.
As the fabric glides over his skin, you take the time to appreciate the well-defined lines of his muscles, his abs rippling enticingly over his stomach. You can’t help put touch him there, examining and admiring every inch of his exposed flesh. Silas chuckles slightly, being mildly amused by your impatience.
“I knew you were still as impulsive as you used to be…” his expression is one of juvenile mischief.
You take him up on the challenge; you haul him closer, fingertips slipping pas the hem of his pants daringly. As your hand recedes to completely remove your shirt off your shoulders, Silas takes the hint and proceeds to rid himself of his pants, leaving him only in his trousers. His fingers then glide over the exposed curves of your sides, mimicking your earlier action as he hooks them under the elastic of your leggings. Though his digits are searing hot against your progressively naked skin, your whole body is riddled with goosebumps every time they explore more of your previously hidden parts.
Soon both of you are only in your underwear, rutting against each other’s clothed sex as your hands probe the expanse of your bare bodies. Your own still throbs from the tingle of alcohol in your veins, flushing your face with a color reminding that of the wine you drank. Unable to resist the palpitating urge in your crotch any longer, you sputter flustered words in Silas’ ear;
“A-Ah, Silas..! Please, let- let’s just get to it already..!” you yelp and jump slightly when he presses his erection harder on your sensitive nub through your panties.
A compassionate yet slightly mocking smile graces his lips at that, “… And always so impatient.”
With that he suddenly moves behind you, spooning you so his hardness pokes at your buttocks. With a couple of quick and swift movements, the both of you are stark naked, and the feel of his cock burrowing between your thighs to rub at your glistening folds has you grind back against him.
When you turn your neck back to look up at him pleadingly, eyes aglow with arousal, Silas gulps down heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing up then down heavily. Then, once a sigh of his name leaves your swollen lips, beseeching him into taking you, right here, right now, on the blanket out in the open, there’s nothing to stop him. One arm rounds underneath your own to grasp your chest and hold you close, while the other hooks under your knee to bend your leg and expose your dripping womanhood.
His mouth locks with yours in a passionate kiss, tongues tangling as Silas swallows your moans and cries while his cock breaches your cunt. The tip of it spreads your wet folds effortlessly, delving past your entrance to fill you. He hisses softly at the tightness of your walls pulsing around him. It takes a short while of adjustments for his shaft to ease its way fully inside of you, slowly pumping in and out so its length is coated with your juices.
Noticing the tension coursing through your body from the pressure of his girth penetrating you, Silas places soft kisses along the crook of your neck and massages your breast gently. Moments later the faint pain subsides, and you gyrate your hips against him to indicate you’re ready to take more of him inside you. Silas shifts slightly, angling his pelvis so he can thrust into you upwards; the rhythm he sets then is moderate but powerful, his movements jerking your body along.
Though he fucks you at a leisurely pace, already a numbing pleasure billows in your lower abdomen, and you can’t help the moans that flow constantly from your mouth. The expression on Silas’ face when you twist your head around to seek his mouth has you sink deeper into the craving ache of your bliss: his jaw is clenched tight, eyes shut and brow furrowed, red tinting his pale cheeks as he seems to revel in his current pleasure as well. However, when he feels your breath fanning on his face, his eyes pry open to bore into your own, devouring with delectation the endless affection that suffuses from your tearing eyes.
That look has his cock swell further with blood, and suddenly his languid thrusts become merciless, his shaft drills into your needy cunt with sharp, punishing pumps, his member driving so deep into you that each time its tip brushes against that heavenly spot, his ball sack slapping loudly against your entrance. Head thrown back from the sheer amount of pleasure rushing in your veins and body writhing under his unrelenting assault, your moans are now vague, obscure mantras of his name coupled with pleas –Gods, Silas, just like that! Yes! Harder, don’t stop!
He grunts in your ears and you know he’s close: you press down harder on him, shoving yourself further on his swollen shaft. His hand drops your leg to rub circles at your engorged clit, and your orgasm hits you hard. Fires ignite in your belly and lights sear your vision, sex throbbing with the aftermath of your release, causing Silas to come moments later, his hot seed filling you as he rides out your orgasms.
You both lay heaving and motionless for a while, letting the beating of your hearts die down in your ears. When it has finally calmed down, the world settling back in place around your temporary idyll, you meet each other’s gaze. The both of you suddenly burst into laughter, tears rising to the corners of your eyes. When silence moves back in, Silas stretches a hand to one of his pouch, placing a kiss on your forehead as he dives past you. He then lends you a handkerchief so you can clean yourself.
Biting your lip deviously, you can’t help but place a snarky remark, “Was that always part of the trip, forest boy?”
Silas’ features turn falsely sour at the mocking nickname, but a blush spread on his cheeks as he stutters at your implications, “Wha- I hadn’t planned for it, I mean, it’s not that I didn’t think about it, but- erhm, that is-”
You laugh merrily at his cute endeavor. It’s your turn to lay a kiss on his cheek, “Calm down, you know I’m just teasing you again. It’s not like I never thought about it either since we were reunited…”
He blushes further, although he seems to beam with confidence. The both of you dress back up, finding a more comfortable position as you cuddle on the blanket spread out beneath you. The sun is still high in the sky –you’ll be able to relax here for a bit more.
As the looming sheath of slumber wraps around you, you find the strength to mutter slurred words, “Still, I wouldn’t mind… More trips like that.”
When Silas kisses you next, you have already fallen asleep. He observes your peaceful traits, the rhythmic rising of your chest. The words he whispers then are more for himself than anyone else;
“Although…Were you always that cute?”
His face nuzzles the back of your head, sleep coming to him easily.